


Oh Dear Brother

by hivehum, infelphira



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Trans Character, intentionally muddled timeline, references to familial abuse, scared at how these tags look tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 14:47:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18096404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hivehum/pseuds/hivehum, https://archiveofourown.org/users/infelphira/pseuds/infelphira
Summary: It's not like Seofon hasn't been witness to Feower's bloodlust. It's happened more times than he can count, though... not so frequently directed at him.Feower isn't Feower without his anger, after all. It's as part of him as his compassion for those slighted by society.-a duel.





	Oh Dear Brother

"SEOFON!"

 

The scream echoes off the walls of the buildings in the city’s streets; bags of groceries left forgotten on the ground.

 

Seofon’s nonchalantly leaning against a wall when Feower bolts into sight, two swords safe in their scabbards and the third propped against his knee. His arms were crossed, but he removes one to wave, casually, at the enraged erune.

 

"Heyo!" He greets him.

 

Feower wanted absolutely nothing less in his day than to find out that  _ Seofon _ , after all he  _ did _ , thought it smart to be within the same  _ island _ as Stardust Town.

 

And yet. There he was. 

 

With that same dumb smile.

 

(That same refusal to just own up to his actions.)

 

The air feels notably colder as the blades in Feower's hands coat themselves in a fog. The cold air rushes off them in visible sheets. He's practically  _ vibrating _ with a poorly contained rage.

 

" _ Heyo. _ " An echo; his voice as if he pulled it up from the bottom of the sky itself. Quiet, malicious, murderous. 

 

Seofon had his chance to speak. He shoots toward his so-called 'brother', weapons raised to strike. He wastes no time.

 

It's not like Seofon hasn't been witness to Feower's bloodlust. It's happened more times than he can count, though... not so frequently directed at him.

 

Feower isn't  _ Feower  _ without his anger, after all. It's as part of him as his compassion for those slighted by society. He wouldn't have had the drive to master his twin blades if he didn't have that desire to protect.

 

And Seofon seems... nonplussed at Feower's rage. His reaction is near as fast as the erune shooting toward him — one hand on the hilt of his unsheathed broadsword and the other supporting its blade as he deflects Feower's strikes with the flat side of the sword. And he places it back down, tip of the blade against pavement, rather than retaliate.

 

He clicks his tongue in casual disapproval.

 

"New blades there, Feower!" He declares. "They seem quite special. Hope they're not talking to you, huh? I know you're way too strong to listen to that kind of thing."

 

The blades bounce off of the raised sword and Seofon effortlessly repels Feower. That just makes him even more angry.

 

Seofon's  _ always like this _ . As if it's boring for him. As if it’s easy. Like playing with some toddler. Feower hisses through his teeth. 

 

The air around them is starting to feel foggier in general. Everything seems quieter; even the din of people who are quickly clearing out from this altercation. 

 

And everything feels colder still.

 

When he lands back on his feet again, he fixes Seofon with a glare. "What, you've already forgotten the Four-Sky Blade?" He thrusts one of the blades out as emphasis. "You sure that  _ sword _ of yours didn't addle your tiny brain?" 

 

"Hᴇ's ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀ sᴛᴇᴘᴘɪɴɢ sᴛᴏɴᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ. Hᴇ's ᴏғғᴇʀᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍsᴇʟғ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏɴ ᴀ ᴘʟᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ. Tʜᴇʏ'ʟʟ ғᴇᴀʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴀᴍᴇ."

 

He wasn't about to admit the Blade did speak to him.

 

"Well, I'll just have to remind you what happened that day the hard way, only this time the Captain isn't here to save your sorry ass."

 

And there he goes, boring into Seofon again with more relentless strikes.

 

Ah, yeah. Half of the Eternals, now, struggling with a revenant weapon. Seofon remembers too clearly how it went down with Tien, how she fought within an inch of her own life until the Captain could wrench the Gun from her grasp... and now it's happening to her brother.

 

"Guess I forgot~!" he responds, singsong.

 

He swings his blade upward and the Sword commands wind: a barrier of air current so strong as to feel solid suddenly separates the two, nullifying Feower's rapid strikes and sending the fog around them into wild turmoil. 

 

And he doesn't retaliate, again. He doesn't call for his Swordshines, and he holds the Sword casually. 

 

Were this just a spar, he wouldn't hold back. But it's not, and he can't tell how much the Blade is influencing Feower.

 

He'll have to disarm him somehow. Be it by words or by force.

 

"What'd you use to call me?  _ Stupidfon _ ? Gotta live up to my titles, y'know!"

 

It'll have to be by force.

 

The foggy air trembles violently when the wind kicks up. But it doesn't dissipate. The air starts to feel electric as the magic of two Revenant weapons and their wielders compete for dominance. Feower's blows hit Seofon's barrier and frost from the moisture in the air flies in every direction. 

 

He's hurt that Seofon would play with him like this. Pretend that everything that had ever hurt them was a game, or something forgettable.

 

But Feower doesn't know how to feel hurt anymore. Just angry.

 

"Yeah,  _ Stupidfon _ ," He echos Seofon instinctively (years of following Seofon loyally, respecting him, it's hard to shake off). His voice is shaking with anger and some heavy weight of exhaustion.

 

He rams the entire weight of his and the Four-Sky Blade's combined power against the barrier of wind. It crumbles, eventually. When the vortex of air and fog whips apart, there's Feower again, bearing down on Seofon with no intent on stopping, until one of them can no longer carry on. 

 

"Do you always do this? Find vulnerable kids and build them up so you can break them down? Is this a hobby to you?" He shouts over the roar of their conflict, "Is this just a game to you?!"

 

Seofon lets it escalate. It'll be hard to exhaust Feower enough to try and get the Blade out of his hands unless he actually tries to fight back. So, when Feower breaks through his barrier, it's Swordshines who match his blows — meeting each point of the dagger with one of the spectral swords as they burst into blue energy at the impact. He can summon them just fast enough to keep pace with Feower.

 

He has to backpedal, a bit, down the wall he was leaning on. On the defensive. 

 

"I don't think I'm having any fun~," he responds, sounding entirely too mocking. "It's really hurting me to see you this way, Feower! So tormented... that really sucks!"

 

"Yᴇs, ᴜsᴇ ᴍᴇ. Kɪʟʟ ʜɪᴍ. Yᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ sᴛʀᴏɴɢᴇʀ, ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ sᴛʀᴏɴɢᴇʀ." The Four-Sky Blade purrs in Feower's mind. "Usᴇ ᴍʏ ɢɪғᴛ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ? Yᴏᴜ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs sᴇᴇᴍ sᴏ ᴀғʀᴀɪᴅ ᴏғ ɪᴛ..."

 

"Oh, shut up!" Is Feower talking to Seofon, or the dagger in his hands? It doesn't have any magical sway over him — not anymore — but an emotionally conflicted teenage boy is an easy target for all sorts of manipulation. "Get out of my head... gah, tormented my _ ass _ ! You know exactly why I'm tormented!" 

 

This time, he won’t be the one eating dirt. This time, it'll be different...

 

Each Swordshine crumbles to a crystalline dust under Feower's blows and he sees himself push Seofon further and further back. Cracks are forming in the wall from the sheer force of Feower's attacks. 

 

Pressing the offensive, Feower aims to play Seofon at his own game. Pointed ice shards start springing out from the twin blades and crashing into Seofon's Swordshines before the blades themselves do. They're not as strong as the Swordshines — simply being magic ice from an ancient weapon — but they increase the odds of the playing field. 

 

It's even quieter now, short of the clash between them. The fog feels thicker. It's almost eerie; as if the air itself is eating the sounds around them. 

 

"Why does it always suit you to mock me like this?! If you really felt anything for me you wouldn't have let yourself be so fucking stupid." His voice is starting to go hoarse from the shouting. The Four-Sky Blade laughs and continues to egg him on, to give in to Sorrow. 

 

"If you didn't want me to be tormented maybe you shouldn't have raised your blade against me! Against sis!" 

 

He thinks about what would've happened if the Captain hadn't showed up...

 

And he just screams again, his attacks leaving trails of frost in their wake.

 

Something almost like a grimace flashes across Seofon’s face as he's backed into a corner.

 

His grip on the Sword tightens. He won't like it — especially if he's still so sore after their duel — but he has one emergency button left, one he knows can separate Feower from his blades, and his finger hovers over it.

 

Those seven stars sparkle and tell him what he wants. Their names are on the tip of his tongue.

 

"I think I did a great job raising you, Feower~!" he says, and laughs. "You've really come into your own. You know..."

 

And he's so serious, suddenly. Like he found the appropriate gravity for the situation, at last.

 

"The skies'll be fine without me, 'cause, the nine of you will protect them."

 

Feower isn't lost yet. Just teetering on the brink. His anger is honey to the ancient weapon that seeks to control him.

 

Seofon's behavior has always been like pouring gasoline on a dumpster fire. 

 

"Then just roll over and die." He growls. There's a dangerous sound in his voice that is not his own, but the echo of an inner voice. 

 

The way Feower's blade lashes out would be deadly to anyone without the skills of an Eternal. It glimmers in the frosted foggy light. But— there's hesitation in the strike too— 

 

Oh… he wants to kill Seofon. It isn't like he hasn't killed before. It isn't like Seofon doesn't deserve it.

 

He steels himself, steadying his blade. He looks Seofon directly in the eyes, face contorted with rage.

 

He pushes his entire weight behind the attack.

 

Seofon keeps eye contact with Feower as the ice emanating from his blades seeps through his breastplate; weakens it; until it is so brittle that the final blow shatters the metal entirely and pierces his chest.

 

He says the words his Sword so yearned for, mouths the names of the seven who came before him, and the ground below them opens up and kicks up a massive whirlwind. The fog surrounding them billows out and clears from the sheer force of power as long-forgotten galaxies seep into the cracks of this world and release their Avatars.

 

The way each one reacts is strange, with many dropping their weapons to surround and restrain Feower, with two reaching for his Blades or his wrists to disarm him, with one using its massive blade to separate the two Eternals.

 

"Sorry, Feower," he says, sounding tired. There's a bit of blood coming out of his mouth, and he's supporting his weight with the Sword. 

 

"You'll always be my little brother."

 

"Yᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ғʟɪᴇs ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴊᴜsᴛ USED ᴍᴇ." The Four-Sky Blade sounds irritated, maybe even a little afraid at the idea of being removed from Feower's hands. Perhaps even a hint of rivalry toward the Seven-Star Sword's Avatars. 

 

But... Feower is too proud.

 

"No. I'll use my own skills to kill him." His voice is quiet. The Sorrow is too much for him to bear. Too frightening to give himself over to the Blade again.

 

One blade is wrenched from his hand and Feower struggles, fighting and hissing at the Avatars. The Four-Sky Blade's voice becomes distorted in his head as it’s ripped away.

 

The stolen blade disappears and the energy flows into the remaining blade in Feower's hand. 

 

The voice returns. It's begging him to use it. He humors it and uses the slightest amount of its powers, wrenching his blade arm free from the Avatar's grasp. 

 

But, he's outnumbered, and the Avatars grab him again. Rather than let it be taken, Feower lets the Blade clatter to the ground. Its voice quiets, but it doesn't go silent. He can still hear it. 

 

"My blades are always poisoned, you know." His voice is level, but it holds none of that gentleness Feower displays with his friends. 

 

If Seofon doesn't get help soon, he'll die. Feower sees this now.

 

It feels pyrrhic. 

 

Looking to Seofon for an answer, like he always used to, he speaks, "Why aren't I satisfied?"

 

Seofon’s grip on the Sword slips.

 

Feower is separated from the Blade. So it's fine if he...

 

Seofon's breathing is ragged, and his exhales are accompanied by bloody spittle. He's braced against the hilt of his blade, but he can't feel his hand, so even that is temporary.

 

"Good," he responds, "it's efficient. Who you want to die—" he's interrupted by a wet cough, "— they'll keel over even if they run."

 

He's watching Feower as well as he can, as his vision is pulsing with something so strong he can't make out anything but the vaguest shapes.

 

His hand slips further, runs against the edge of his Sword as gravity forces him to his knees.

 

"Sorry, Feower," he says, and he looks smug, prideful despite the sweat coating his face and the blood flowing still. "I didn't want to see you go..."

 

He has to wheeze, for a moment.

 

"Like Tien, and the Gun..."

 

Seofon's hand goes limp and leaves the presence of the Sword. Now beholden to no master, its gems go dim, and its Avatars fade into celestial dust.

 

The gusts fade into calm.

 

The Four-Sky Blade laughs, victorious either way.

 

"You didn't answer my question." Feower speaks barely above a whisper. "You died all the same."

 

It's like a vice closed around his heart. 

 

This isn't satisfying.

 

It wasn't like emptying a mafia den of signs of life, for the mafia was truly evil.

 

He'd gotten revenge for his sister but somehow he felt she wouldn't have wanted this. That makes it more bitter.

 

"... What gun?"

**Author's Note:**

> this is adapted from a roleplay thread infelphira and i wrote back in july of 2018, before amped up summer gave us any kind of catharsis on seofon and feower's relationship. it turns out that in the absence of canon we come up with the worst possible conclusion. fun!


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